


Why Shouldn't He Be Happy?

by make_your_user_a_name



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Loved, Dean winchester is Bi, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic John Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is So Done, Season/Series 15, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Sort Of, Supportive Sam Winchester, Supportive Sibling Sam Winchester, homophobic werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23166892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/make_your_user_a_name/pseuds/make_your_user_a_name
Summary: When Sam takes Dean and Cas on a hunt for a werewolf with a homophobic streak, Dean has to confront a part of himself he never wanted to.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 20
Kudos: 284
Collections: Fics For Miles





	1. Chapter 1

Sam was worried. 

Not because Dean was sharing, was being open. Not because Dean had come back from Purgatory the second time looking lighter than he had been in years. Not because Dean was dealing with his emotions in a healthy way. Or even that his alcohol intake had gone from copious to moderate. 

Sam was worried because Dean seemed to be on the verge of finally letting himself be happy, and he was holding himself back. This was the closest Sam had ever seen his brother to breaking his pattern of self-doubt and hatred that stemmed back to when he was four years old. And yeah, Sam knew there was a reason for it. Remembering how John Winchester raised them still made him shudder.

“Hey, man.”

Dean stumbled into the kitchen still clad in his grey robe, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

Sam looked up. “Welcome to the world Sleeping Beauty. It’s 2 in the afternoon. I found a case.”

Dean looked up, more alert. “Then, why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because I’m not suicidal.” Dean grunted. “And, I figured you could use some rest.”

“Right, and you couldn’t. What exactly did Chuck show you? You’ve been more of a wreck than me lately.”

“C’mon. The case is just a five-hour drive. A little town called Sterling in Colorado.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Go tell Cas. Guess we leave in ten.”

“Five.”

“Don’t try and take my breakfast time from me, Sammy.”

“Whatever, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

***  
Normally a car ride with his brother, his angel best friend, and Zeppelin was something Dean looked forward to. The open road, all of their problems disappearing for a few hours, the talks that brought them closer (at least most of the time)... it wasn’t the worst thing. But not today. Sam was acting weird lately, and Cas. Well, Cas was fine, but Dean was nervous around him now for some reason. Castiel, angel of the lord, and his best friend. The air was cleared between them, and that scared the hell out of Dean. 

They didn’t really talk, which was good. Dean could use time with his thoughts. 

The drive flew by, two brothers and an angel lost in the chords of classic rock. 

Dean pulled into the first motel in Sterling. He asked for two doubles and handed a key to Cas and a key to Sam. Then followed them to the rooms. He went to follow Sam into his room but a giant arm stopped him. 

“Why don’t you and Cas bunk together this time?”

Dean froze. Because obviously, _obviously_ , he was going to say no. But he couldn’t hurt Cas like that. It wasn’t personal, it was just weird. Sam was looking at him with a very controlled smirk, and Dean filed it away to throttle him later. Because he had no idea what Sam was up to, but he hated it. 

He turned toward Cas and saw his face a taciturn mask, as usual. They were both waiting for him to answer. So he opened his mouth to tactfully reject the offer. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Sam’s eyebrows shot into his mop of hair. 

“Great, well, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. We can check out the vic first thing.”

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. How did my mouth just work without me??_

Cas wordlessly unlocked the motel door and walked in, his face betraying nothing. So Dean followed suit. It wasn’t a big deal anyway, the guy--no, the angel--was his best friend. 

Dean got ready for bed with way more thought than he cared to admit. Carefully locking the bathroom door when he got changed. Brushing his teeth slowly and methodically. Trading in his typical outfit of boxers and nothing more for baggy sweats and a t-shirt. Slipping carefully under the sheets with his back turned to the angel who sat motionless on the other bed. 

“Still don’t sleep, huh?” It was a stupid question. He knew the answer, he lived with the guy. 

“No.” The gravelly voice resonated through the room. 

“Well, good night, Cas.” He heard the angel turn and lay down on the bed. Shoes, dusty trench coat, the baggy suit, and all. Dean chuckled quietly at the angel, and then felt himself drifting off. 

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” His eyes stayed shut, he felt totally relaxed, and here they were at the beginning of a hunt. Dean _never_ felt safe at the beginning of a hunt. 

“Are you okay?”

“I am.” Dean smiled, and he really meant it. 

“I think Sam’s worried about you.”

“Look, man, I’m doing great. Like really great.” 

“Then why is Sam--”

“I really don’t know. But he’s got no reason to be.” 

Cas sighed and then stood up. “You still have an hour. I’ll watch over you.”

Dean sank into his pillow with a contented sigh, forgetting to make some offhand comment about how creepy Cas was.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was ecstatic. But still worried. Because Dean had agreed, actually agreed to share a room with Cas. Maybe he was finally knocking down some of those stupid walls that surrounded his heart. And it’s not like he expected anything to _happen_ between his brother and his best friend. Not that he didn’t think they wanted it. But they weren’t there yet.

That’s okay, though. That’s what he was here for. 

It was the end of times, God was out to ruin their lives, and Dean was starting to process like a normal human being. So apocalypse 8.0 or not, he was gonna press his advantage. And it was working. Dean shared a room with Cas.

He kept repeating it, a giddy laugh escaping him. Yes, Dean cared for him, would always protect him and look out for him. But Sam cared for his older brother just as fiercely. And he was going to help him be happy. 

He met them outside their room and was pleased to see both of them relaxed and at ease. 

“So the vic’s heart was missing, right?” 

“Good morning to you too.” Sam laughed. 

“Werewolf,” Cas said, squinting at Sam. 

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, well--most likely. It’s a werewolf with kind of a weird M.O.” 

“What’d’ya mean?” Dean said, stepping into the Impala and pulling the door shut behind him. 

“All the vics share a quality,” Sam said, following his brother into the car, taking his normal place in the front seat. He waited for Cas to get in behind him before continuing. 

“Cut the suspense, Sammy.” 

“Well, all of the vics were gay, or at least identify LGBTQ+ in some way.”

Sam looked over at Dean as he said this, and saw him gulp quickly before responding. 

“So what? We got a homophobic werewolf on the loose?”

“Looks like it.”

Cas stayed silent for the whole exchange, squinting at the window.

They decided to drop Sam off at the coroner’s office. He watched as they drove across the street to the police station. Sam thought back to Dean’s reaction when he had shared the killers M.O. He knew Dean had struggled with his sexuality, and that he didn’t really like to talk about it. As far as he knew, Dean wasn’t straight but was never gonna admit it. He figured he was probably bi. But Dean didn’t share. Which was fine with him, it was his journey. But he just didn’t know exactly why. 

He shrugged off his thoughts and walked into the coroner’s office, pulling out his FBI badge as he did. 

“Agent Wilkens. I’m investigating the series of murders where the victim’s hearts have been ripped out. Can I see the latest vic’s remains?”

“Welcome to Sterling, Agent Wilkens,” the woman behind the desk said dryly. “If you’ll follow me back this way.” 

“I’m Mandy, by the way. It’s terrible what's happening.”

“Yeah,” Sam said quietly, then cleared his throat. “You know any of the vics?”

“All three. I grew up with them. They were great people. I don’t know what kind of sick--” She trailed off. 

“In here.”

“Sheriff think there’s a connection between them?” Sam asked, following her into the morgue. 

“Well, Sherry was pansexual, Kevin was gay. And Oliver, he’s the most recent, he just came out as bisexual last week. Sheriff Grant thinks it’s some sort of messed up hate crime”

“Last week?” Sam couldn’t help it, he was curious. “Isn’t he in his forties?”

“Some people need time.” Mandy gave a small smile. 

_Ain’t that the truth._

Sam looked over the man’s body quickly. The way his heart was ripped out, the claw marks on his arms--definitely a werewolf. He thanked Mandy for her time then pulled out his phone to call Cas and Dean. 

***  
Dean and Cas walked in silence into the Sheriff’s office. Dean’s thoughts were on this stupid case. Because of course, Sam had brought him along on this stupid hunt. Probably part of Sam’s whole yoga and salads and discover who you truly are crap.

But Dean couldn’t blame Sam. Because they were here to save people, obviously. And Sam had always been understanding and incredibly caring when it came to this. He didn’t deserve his little brother. 

“Dean?”

“What’s up?” That deep voice was really not what he needed. 

“What’s homophobic?” Of course, Cas, the badass, powerful angel of the Lord, didn’t know that little fact. He knows all about sexuality, all about pop culture now too. He speaks hundreds of languages, has lived for an incomprehensible amount of time. He is an incredible warrior and--Dean cut off that trail of thought. It didn't matter how great Cas is, he asked him a question. 

“It’s when ignorant people think that the only right relationships are between a man who was born a man and a woman who was born a woman. So they take it out and spread hate toward anyone who doesn’t fit that tight little mold.”

“Oh,” Cas said softly. 

The deputy behind the desk looked up when they walk in and stands to greet them. 

“Deputy Harris, what can I do for you?”

They pulled out their badges, and Dean saw Cas checking carefully to make sure his wasn't upside down. He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his lips. 

“We’re investigating the murder of Oliver Ross, and the two vics with the same- pattern.” Cas took the lead. Dean nodded in appreciation and then looked to the deputy. Some instinct went off as he examined the pleasant, small-town face. But he had no tell, no shifty eyes, no sudden change in behavior. Dean filed away the instinct and resolved to mention it to Sam and Cas later. 

“Well, Sheriff Grant is out. But I can take your questions.”

Dean ticked through the routine, learning about the vics, their families. 

“Any connection between the vics, deputy?” 

“Sheriff thinks it's something to do with their lifestyle.”

“Lifestyle,” Cas said flatly with his signature head tilt.

“Yeah, they were all queers.” He didn't say it viscously, but Dean cringed at the word, clearing his throat before he spoke. 

“Thanks for your time, Deputy Harris.”

Dean handed him a card to call with any developments and then turned to walk out. 

“Dean, was he homophobic?”

“Maybe. Some people don’t flaunt it. What makes you say that?”

“He was talking through his teeth.”

“Yeah, well, maybe he’s just got it out for the FBI.” Cas’ lips curved upward slightly and he looked down. Dean’s eyes followed him until he got a buzz in his pocket.

“Sammy, what’s up?”

“Definitely a werewolf. Moon cycle is off though, so it’s a pureblood”

“Copy that. We'll pick you up and head down to the bar down the street from our motel. We can chat up the locals, look for a suspect?”

“Sounds good.”

“Chat up the locals?” Cas asked in a somewhat bitter tone. 

Dean glanced up in confusion. “Yeah, ya know. Work the case?”

“And spend the night with a random girl you find. I know you, Dean. I can share Sam’s room with him tonight.”

Dean tilted his head in a pretty solid accidental impression of Cas. Was he… jealous?

“I’m not gonna find some random hook up, man. I’m just working. ‘Sides, I liked sharing a room with you.” 

He regretted that last part as soon as it was out. But, hey, it was true. And it was Cas. He wouldn’t read into it the wrong way or anything. 

“I like sharing a room with you too, Dean.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ!! Trigger Warning: homophobic language, child abuse

Sam walked into the bar and was greeted by the sweet smell of old whiskey and sweat. It was gonna be a long night. Dean went to grab a couple of beers and they found a table to debrief before they went looking for a suspect. 

“I don’t like the deputy,” Cas starts. 

“Me neither, something was off about him.”

“We’ll check him out, guys. But you don’t really have any evidence so we might as well make the best of our time here and look for more confirmation. Unless of course, you guys wanna spend more time at the motel-” he purposefully trails off with a smirk. Sure, he wants Dean to be happy. But also he’s the younger brother. 

“Okay, Sam, you’re right.” He nods at Cas and they sit in companionable silence for a few minutes before he stands up with a sigh. 

Walking over to a group of girls, he decides to go the FBI route. Cas and Dean will try to blend in, so he might as well lean in with the authority. 

He flashes his badge and a smile. “Hey, ladies, mind if I ask you a few quick questions?” 

They giggle and look up at him. A tall girl (not as tall as him obviously) with red hair stands up and shakes his hand. “What can we do for you, agent?” 

“I was wondering if you could tell me about Deputy Harris over at the Sheriff’s station?”

“Why, he in some kind of trouble?” 

“No, no, nothing like that. Just checking some boxes so we can move out of here.”

“Well, agent, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed.” Sam scoffed and tried not to roll his eyes. Still, he was glad the girl was hitting on him and not Dean or Cas. Those two couldn’t handle it right now. 

Met with his silence, she raised an eyebrow and then continued. “He’s a great guy. Pillar of the community. He’s been here as long as I can remember.”

“Would you consider him progressive?”

“Oh, definitely. He treats his wife great.”

“In more ways than that?”

“Well, he isn’t radical and liberal. God knows we don’t need any more of that in this town. He’s a God-fearing man, Agent Wilkens. One anyone would be proud to know.”

“I see.” Sam frowned, biting his tongue. “And the Sheriff?”

“He’s a little more… well, he got caught up in some modern ideas. But he’s still a good man.”

“Tara, shut up,” another girl at the table spoke up. “Deputy Harris is a great man, but he can be a jerk about stuff. And the Sheriff is one of the best men I’ve ever met.”

Sam nodded and then turned to leave before a debate broke out that he didn’t trust himself. 

“See you around!” Tara shouted. He returned the sentiment with a close-lipped smile before assuming one of his favorite bitch faces when he was facing the other way. 

“Looks like that was fun.” Dean laughed.

“Oh, yeah, I love talking to ignorant people. Seems like the deputy is probably our guy.”

“That’s what I found too,” Cas said, walking up from behind them.  
“Great well, let’s get some sleep, then test him with silver to make sure tomorrow. Actually a simple case for once.”

Sam smiled. Back to the hotel then.  
***  
Dean drifted quickly to sleep with a smile after he went through his ridiculous new bedtime routine.

His dreams took the smile away.

They brought a memory he’d been blocking out with every ounce of will he had.

When he was about 16, John had found a long term case in upstate New York. Which was great for Sam and not so great for Dean. Sam enjoyed school, even if he didn’t like the people he had to interact with. But Dean hated it all. 

The high school was small, and everyone knew everyone. Dean had to take a stupid US history class that taught him nothing new. And, in that class, he met Seth. He had near-black hair and coffee brown eyes. He rarely smiled, and when he did, it was a half-smile. 

And when he asked Dean out, the thought of saying no didn’t even cross his mind. 

People at the school didn’t really seem to mind. They all had grown to support Seth, who had come out as gay in 6th grade. They went on a few movie dates, a few coffee dates. Everyone knew about them, including Sam. But he never said anything to dad. If he didn’t say anything about Dean’s girlfriends, why would he say something about his boyfriend?

Dean entered into a period of pseudo-happiness. Dad was rarely around, his little brother was okay, and he was with someone he really liked. But he still didn’t really share who he was with Seth. And it took a lot of convincing to have him over at the motel. 

But eventually, he gave in. And that night would change Dean forever. Dean shifted in his sleep and his dream goes more into focus. He felt like he’s there again, reliving it all. 

Seth gets there at 6. Dad is going to be gone for a few more days, and Dean had not so politely asked Sam to stay at a friend’s. His breath comes quickly. He’s terrified. He really liked this guy and he didn’t want to mess it up. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Dean feels lost without his normal bluster and confidence. Like a shy child.

There’s a pause, a moment of awkwardness as Seth stands in the doorway, and then he steps in and it all melts away. Dean steps aside and leads the way to the small square TV that sits in the corner of the room. The boys sit cross-legged on the ground, exchanging stories of their day and enjoying being with each other. 

“What’d you wanna watch?” Dean hates how young, how innocent he sounds. 

“Up to you.” Seth smiles at him and scoots closer, letting Dean rest his head on his shoulder. 

They watch stupid cartoons for over an hour and their legs slowly become more intertwined, their arms wrapped around each other. Dean feels safe and his breaths come deep and even. He only ever feels like that when he’s sleeping these days. Ever since he had to start helping on hunts. But here, in the arms of another kid, another sixteen year old just trying to figure it out, he does feel safe. 

They reach the end of a predictable yet fantastic Scooby-Doo episode, and Dean grabs the remote and turns the TV off. He props himself up on his elbow and looks at Seth’s eyes. At his messy dark hair. Then he slowly leans in and presses his lips to his. It’s sloppy and naive and everything a kid’s first kiss with another boy should be. Seth leans into him, his warm chest pressing against Dean’s and kisses back. 

He pulls back for a second and mutters softly “Dean,” before pressing himself back into him. Dean smiles against his lips, pulling him closer, even though it feels impossible. 

And then in the back of his mind, he hears the sound of a door shutting. And the sound of keys clattering to the ground. 

A voice, deep, soft, and dangerous, says, “What the _hell_ , Dean?” 

He jumps up, untangling his limbs from Seth. 

“Dad, I--”

“Get up boy,” John says threateningly, gesturing to Seth. 

Seth stands up shakily, and then instinctively moves to protect Dean. 

John darts forward, grabbing Seth’s shirt and pulling him toward him. The stench of whiskey envelops Dean and he wants to reach forward to help, but he’s paralyzed. 

“Stay away from my son, fag. Get out now.”

Seth looks back at Dean, something broken in his eyes. 

“Go,” Dean whispers. 

Seth holds his gaze for another second and then turns and flees. John stares after him, still as a statue. Then he slowly turns back toward Dean. Dean stands there, still unable to move.

The fist comes out of nowhere, and Dean doesn’t even know it hit until he feels the stinging on his cheek. The blows rain down until John is breathing heavily and Dean is on the floor whimpering and holding his hands above his head. 

John puts his face next to Dean, and the rancid breath makes Dean gag. 

“I didn’t raise no _fucking_ faggot!” He shouts, enunciating each word and punctuating each with a punch to the stomach. 

“Get up boy!” Dean stumbles to his feet, swaying from the ringing in his head. 

“You are a hunter! I bust my ass all day saving people and I come home to my son about to fuck a fucking _twink_.” His fist connects with Dean’s ribs this time, and Dean gasps for air. 

“If I ever…” He slams Dean to the ground and towers over him.

“Catch you doing anything…” His foot slams into Dean causing tears to stream down his face. 

“Like this again…” The foot connects with Dean’s face, causing blood to pour from his nose. 

“I’ll fucking _kill_ you.”

John walks away muttering a final “I didn’t raise no fucking faggot” under his breath. 

And Dean just sobs, broken and defeated on the floor, beaten within an inch of his life. He stayed in a different motel room for a few days after that, hiding from Sammy. He should have gone to a hospital, but that was out of the question. So he had to heal up where his little brother wouldn’t have to see him. He wasn’t with a man after that until after John had died. And even then, it was on his knees in a dirty bathroom at the back of the bar or pressed up against a wall in the alleyway. Anywhere Sam wouldn’t see. 

“Dean! Dean!” Dean jerked out of his sleep, his entire body in panic mode.

“Dean, it’s okay! I’m here, I’m here.” Cas muttered over and over, holding him tightly to his chest. Dean buried into it, tears already soaked his face and his entire body was shaking. 

“What happened?” He said thickly and tentatively after he had calmed his hysteria a little. 

“You were screaming and crying in your sleep. I didn’t know what to do. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Cas nodded and gave Dean a tight squeeze before standing up. 

“Wait, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Stay with me?” He sounded like a scared kid again, but he didn’t care.

“Of course.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sam wasn’t quite sure what woke him up. The scuffle of a boot against the cracked concrete outside his door, a soft and sinister exhale, the sound of claws being rubbed gently against a door, testing the waters--his eyes flew open. Without stopping to think he burst from his room into the cold night air just in time to see the deputy, claws out and eyes yellow, snarl and break down the door into Dean and Cas’ room. 

“Hey!” He shouted, his voice still thick with sleep. The werewolf glanced back and smirked when he saw him unarmed. 

“I’m not here for you, boy. Stay out of this.” 

Sam stood for a minute, breathing heavily, and looked into the room. Dean and Cas were groggily pushing off sleep, and they were… in the same bed?

Dean went for the gun under his pillow but the wolf beat him to it, sending it flying across the room. Cas raised his arm to fight him but followed the gun across the room with one swipe from Harris. 

The wolf grabbed Dean by the throat and hauled him to his feet. 

“I smelled it off you the minute you walked in. A gay hunter?” He scoffed. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” 

Dean stood there, frozen, before forcing out, “I’m not--”

“Bi, gay, whatever you want to call it. You’re a faggot.”

Sam had seen his brother face a nest full of vampires by himself and still look like the most powerful thing in the room. He had seen him slaughter angels without flinching. He had seen him stand up to God, stand up to the Devil, and do it all with a set and angry face. He had never seen his brother crumple like he did at the werewolve’s words. 

He fell to his knees and looked more vulnerable than Sam had ever seen him. Sam came to his senses and ran for the gun that lay discarded across the room, but Cas beat him to it. 

“How dare you?!” he heard the angel hiss. The sound of a gun firing rang in Sam’s ears and he heard the werewolf cry out before clutching his leg. Cas was on him before he could recover, his angel blade out. 

Cas pressed the blade into the bullet wound, causing the deputy to cry out in pain. He kept carving, driving the knife deeper into his leg. 

“Leave him alone,” the gravelly voice sounded lower than normal, echoing off the walls. 

He lifted the gun he still held in his other hand and pressed it against the man’s chest. Then he pulled the trigger calmly, even while his face struggled to contain his anger. 

Sam watched until he was sure the werewolf was dead and then ran to his brother’s side. 

He was still on his knees, eyes glazed and muttering over and over something Sam couldn’t make out. 

He pulled his brother into a hug and heard him saying “I didn’t raise no fucking faggot, I didn’t raise no fucking faggot.”

“Dean,” Sam started and his brother broke from the trance, falling into Sam’s arms. 

“Sammy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“You got nothing to apologize for Dean.” His heart broke. His brother was strong, he didn’t break like this very often. 

“I’ll get this cleaned up.” Sam glanced up and saw Cas wrapping some sheets around the wolf. 

“Thanks, Cas.”

He looked back down and saw Dean glance away, ashamed to look at Cas. 

“It’s okay, Dean.” He pretended not to notice the tears streaming down his face. 

***

Dean couldn’t process what had happened. So he just sunk into his brother’s arms and tried to block it all out. He felt like he was underwater, drowning. The sound of Cas carrying the body out the broken door seemed miles away. 

He stayed in Sam’s arms while Cas buried the body. While Cas cleaned up the motel room enough that they couldn’t be traced. And then he stood up at Sam’s gentle urgings. His senses were starting to return, and he felt like he’d overreacted. Like he was useless. Like a child that needed to be saved. 

Sam took the keys and got in the car, so Dean found himself in the back with Cas. The angel sat silently, staring straight ahead. 

They drove in silence for five hours, and when they reached the bunker, both Sam and Cas moved to leave the car. Dean cleared his dry throat and took a deep breath.

“Guys?” They both stopped, turning to face him. 

“I would have told you. I’m sorry. I should have.”

“Dean, you don’t need to be sorry. We’re your family.” 

“Cas is right Dean. We’re here for you, okay? No matter what. And you realize this doesn’t change anything.”

“Nothing at all,” Cas agreed solemnly.

Dean felt tears forming again and he angrily pushed them back even as a smile formed on his lips. He did not deserve them. “Thanks, guys.” They both nodded. 

That night, Dean slept easier. His dream didn’t return. He was embarrassed, but they didn’t seem to care. He was weak, he had collapsed at a single werewolf, but they didn’t seem to care. He was bi, and they didn’t seem to care. He felt lighter than he had in years. 

Then a voice in the back of his head said, _and you’re in love with Cas, what will they think of that?_

Dean sighed, that was a problem for another day.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam hadn’t forgotten that Dean and Cas had been in the same bed. He never would have forced his brother to come out like that, but now that it had happened…

Well, maybe he could get him to admit his feelings for their guardian angel. 

He was browsing through the news, looking for signs of Chuck or signs of a case when Dean walked in, looking well-rested and not at all groggy. Which was weird, Dean didn’t sleep well. Ever. And especially not when a world-threatening crisis was looming. 

He took it as a good sign, though. Dean had been carrying that around for a long time. And Sam knew there were still memories and trauma that Dean would keep buried for years. He remembered what his brother was muttering and it made his blood boil. Because John hadn’t been a great father, but he had no idea he had scarred Dean like that. He shuddered to think of the beating that had probably accompanied those words. Of how they would have shattered Dean, who held his father on the highest pedestal imaginable. So, needless to say, Dean wasn’t even close to trauma-free. But he had taken a step toward healing today.

“Sam! You ok?” He looked up and saw Dean staring at him holding a cup of coffee.

“What?”

“You just ignored me for, like, five minutes.”

“Sorry, just got a lot on my mind with Chuck.”

“Oh, right.” Dean took the seat across from Sam and pulled out his phone, so Sam went back to scrolling through the news. 

He glanced up at Dean. He didn’t seem to be in shock or be too traumatized from the hunt. And Sam was extremely sick of watching Dean and Cas stare into each other’s soul completely oblivious to everyone else in the room. The offhand comments where one of them would go off about how great the other was without realizing what they were doing. The desperation and panic in their eyes whenever the other was in danger or dead.

So it was definitely time for Sam to intervene. He figured he’d have to talk to both of them separately. Confront them about why the hell they were sharing a bed. Why they had been avoiding each other since. And of course the years of soulful pining.

“Dean, I need to ask you something.” His brother glanced up warily.

“Shoot.”

“Why were you and Cas in the same bed?” He meant to ask it seriously, but he couldn’t help the smirk that crept both into his voice and onto his face.

To his shock, Dean didn't freak out. But he did get that look in his eye that he gets when he’s about to deflect. 

“Because--”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dean. I’m not trying to call you out or anything. If you like Cas, that’s fine.”

“It’s not like that, Sammy,” Dean said with a resigned sigh. 

“I had a bad-- I couldn’t sleep. And Cas calmed me down. And so I asked him to stay.”

“What did you dream about?”

“Sam.”

“C’mon, Dean, keeping it bottled up doesn’t work. We’ve learned that.”

“About Dad. You remember Seth? From that small town in New York.”

It all came rushing back. The few weeks where Dean had been happy. And then he had disappeared for days. When he got back he was pretty bruised, Sam always assumed he’d gone on a side hunt or had been helping Dad. 

“Well, he came over to the motel. And then Dad found us--”

Sam nodded slowly. “Dean, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“It’s fine, Sammy,” Dean smiled sadly, “It’s in the past.”

“It’s not fine. But it is what it is. And I love you for you.”

“Thanks, man.”

“And I love you no matter who you fall for.”

Dean narrowed his eyes and stood up.

“If you find a case, or get a lead on the God thing, let me know. I’ll be in my room.”

Sam smiled ruefully. Some people need time. 

***

Dean knew Sam knew. But that was not a conversation he was prepared to have with his little brother. It seemed like he didn’t care--like he would even be supportive. But that didn’t matter because regardless of how much Sam cheered him on, it wouldn’t change the facts.

Whatever he felt for Cas, it was clearly not returned. Because Dean had betrayed him too many times. Had hurt him too many times. Had let him down too many times. Cas might see him as a close friend now, but he had done too much to ever earn love. 

So, he could admit he loved his best friend. And he could also admit he needed to get the hell over it because it wasn’t going anywhere. 

He stalked toward his room lost in thought. So, of course, he didn’t see the angel until he had barrelled into him. 

They both staggered back. Dean cleared his throat.

“Uh- Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.”

“It’s okay, Dean.”

Dean stood awkwardly for a moment and then moved to continue to his room.

“How are you, Dean?”

“I’m good, Cas.”

The angel took a step closer and Dean could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. His hair was ruffled but his eyes were as clear as ever. The piercing blue was fixed on Dean. Dean’s spine tingled and the pink tinge on his neck grew red. 

“I’m worried about you,” Cas said softly. 

He was impossibly sweet and _so not_ what Dean needed right now. He didn’t deserve to be worried about, didn’t deserve to be cared about at all even. Not by the person he had let down the most. The person who had no blood obligation to stand by him, but did anyway.

“Why, Cas?”

“We’re family,” the angel said simply.  


“Yeah. Yeah, man, we are. But really. Getting that off my chest back there… it was good for me. I’m doing good, seriously. And Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Back at the motel... thank you. I just was dealing with some crap from my past, and… well, I needed you. I still need you. So, thank you.”

Cas nodded and pulled Dean into a short embrace. “I was glad to help.”

Feeling even lighter than he had earlier, Dean walked to his room and fell back onto his bed. He was being honest and open. The people closest to him knew the parts of him he had kept hidden in shame, and they were treating him normally. He was happy. He just hoped they were happy too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short Sam chapter this time:)

It had been over a week. Maybe Sam was being impatient, but he was really tired of the longing gazes cast across the room when supposedly no one was looking. So, he was going to talk to Cas. But if that didn’t work then he was going to resort to drastic measures. 

Cas was standing against a wall in the bunker’s library, staring intently at the wall across from him.

“Cas, can I steal a minute?”

The angel didn’t move from his place against the wall, so Sam took a step toward him. 

“Cas?”

“Sorry, Sam. What’s wrong? A new development with Chuck?”

“No, I can’t find him. He seems to have dropped off the grid.”

Cas moved for the first time since Sam had entered the room, turning to face him squarely. He tilted his head and squinted, and Sam figured that was an invitation enough to go on. 

“Actually, uh, I wanted to talk to you about Dean.”

“What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I think he’s fine. I was just gonna ask--why were you and Dean sharing a bed back at that motel?” Angels don’t normally blush. In fact, Sam couldn’t recall a single time he’d seen Cas actually blush. But at his words, a faint pink tinge rises in Cas’ cheeks.   
“I helped him.” It was said simply enough, but each Sam could tell each word was thought out. 

“Right…” Sam trailed off, eyes fixed on Cas.

“We may have learned that Dean likes both men and women, Sam, but that doesn’t mean we should go making conclusions that have no evidence.”

“No evidence?”

“Yes, no evidence. And I don’t know what you are referring to anyway.”

“Don’t you?” Sam said softly. He really wasn’t trying to hurt them. And they clearly weren’t going to resolve this on their own. 

“Sam,” Cas sighed, “No.” 

Of course, he was dealing with two of the most stubborn people he knew. They couldn’t even have a conversation about this. Not that they’d been able to for the last 11 years. But Sam had always figured at least Cas would be open to discussion if he really tried. 

“Castiel, you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

“There’s nothing to deal with.”

“And if there were?”

“Then that would be my burden to bear. My folly to overcome.”

“It’s not folly.”

“Really? Not folly to develop feelings for the man you pulled from hell? The man you’ve betrayed more times than you can count? The man you’ve let down over and over? The righteous man, the good man, when you’re nothing but a rebellious angel? An angel who shouldn’t be able to fall in love? It’s not folly to fall in love with Dean Winchester?”

Castiel’s chest was heaving, his eyes were cast to the floor. Sam couldn’t see his face, but he saw a single tear fall from Cas’ face and land on the floor. 

Sam waited for a minute after the outburst, cleared his throat softly, then in the gentlest tone he could, said, “Not if he loves you back.” 

Cas kept his eyes glued to the floor and shook his head silently once. Then he quickly left the room. 

Sam sighed in frustration and then picked up his phone. 

_You were right. I’m gonna need that truth powder. Be there in a couple of hours._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter:)) lemme know what you think! kudos and comments appreciated

Sam had left hours ago with no explanation, just an admonishment to not worry. Which left Dean alone with Cas in the bunker. A thought that terrified him. And it was all Sam’s fault. Because he had no reason to be scared to be in a bunker alone with his best friend. With the person (angel) he enjoyed spending time with the most. 

But Sam had to go and ruin it all. To meddle in things that weren’t there to be meddled in. 

Dean didn’t want Cas to think he was scared though, because just because Sam had ruined his life didn’t mean he needed to hurt Cas. So, he ignored every instinct that told him to hide in his room.

He was sitting at the map table, head bent over a lore book he had already gone over a million times, looking for some way to defeat Chuck, when Cas walked in. 

The angel crossed the room without a word and stood right behind Dean, bending over him to look at what he was reading. 

Dean felt the heat spread through him, and he hoped Cas couldn’t sense it. The angel pressed up closer to him and Dean could feel his hot breath on his neck. 

“Have you found anything?” Each word fell onto Dean’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine. 

Dean shrugged and then shook his head. 

“Haven’t you already looked through that book?” Cas’ chest pressed fully against Dean’s back, and he could feel every breath the angel takes. 

“We don’t have any new books,” Dean said with a short laugh. 

Cas moved his hand through Dean’s arm and ran his finger along a line of text. Dean watched, as if in a trance, as the angel’s hand moved slowly across the page. Cas stayed for a moment and then withdrew his hand, placing it instead on Dean’s shoulder. Dean tried to control his breathing. He considered telling Cas off and muttering personal space. But at this point, the angel would never learn. 

“Has Sam checked in?”

He turned around and found Cas’ face inches from his own. And he was going to turn back around, he really was. But he didn’t. He left himself stay right next to the angel of the Lord.

“Not yet,” he breathed. 

“We’ll beat him, Dean.”

“I know.” Cas’ breath was hot on his face, and he could feel his cheeks burning bright. 

He stood up and put a few more inches between him and Cas. 

_A totally socially acceptable distance,_ he told himself.

“Why can’t he just let us be, Cas? Why does he need to have our way with us when he has thousands of other worlds?”

“I don’t know. My father is-- He’s beyond comprehension. He doesn’t like not getting what he wants. And He’s God, Dean. He always gets what He wants. But we won’t let him this time. We are real, no matter what He has done to our lives.”

“I know.” Dean looked down at his feet. Their toes were touching and he felt like he should take a step back, give Cas some space. But a hand on his arm stopped him. 

“We need to talk.” 

Dean licked his lips nervously and looked up at Cas. “Okay?”

“Thank you for forgiving me in purgatory, Dean.”

“Of course, I forgive you. You’re my best friend.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Of course Cas was his best friend. But he wished he could be more, too.

“You’re my best friend, Dean Winchester. The first friend I ever had. Everything I’ve done on this Earth has been because of you. The millennium I lived before you, they seem so meaningless after just the past years. Knowing you has been the greatest privilege I’ve ever been given.”

The hand on Dean’s arm slid slowly down to his hand and Dean felt soft fingers curl around his hand. He stiffened up, just for a moment, and then let his hand relax and intertwine with Cas’. He didn’t trust himself to speak. 

“You taught me what humanity is. You taught me to be free. I know, Dean, that you will never respond in the way I wish you would. But you taught me to hope, you taught me to not give up. You taught me to choose, Dean Winchester. And I choose you.”

His voice still seemed to have left him. Gone to live in the part of the world that still makes sense. Because this didn’t make sense. Dean had done nothing to deserve this. He remembered the words of Castiel so long ago, “Good things do happen” and then “you don’t think you deserve to be saved.” Maybe he didn’t think he deserves love. But it was offered to him. 

He looked up and met Cas’ eyes. The sea of blue held fear, and it looked so fragile compared to the power that normally resided there. There was also a dizzying calm in his eyes. Dean felt himself get lost in it, before pulling himself out. 

He reached out with his free hand and took Cas’ other hand. His gaze dropped to Cas’ lips, and then his eyes fell shut. Then, Dean leaned in slowly. 

Their lips met softly, barely brushing against each other. Dean pulled back and looked into Cas’ eyes, saw the joy in his eyes reflected in the bliss of Cas’ glittering pools of blue. 

He let go of Cas’ hands and ran his own hands up the angels back and into his hair. He pulled him into a kiss again, this one more desperate. Cas responded, greedily leaning into Dean, turning him so he was pressed against the map table. 

Dean pushed off Cas’ trench and suit coat and started slowly unbuttoning his white dress shirt, his mouth never leaving the angels. As the shirt dropped to the floor, Cas’ hands played at the bottom of his shirt. He pulled it off slowly, letting his hands trace along Dean's chest. They both sighed as it slipped over his head, leaving their bare chests pressed against each other. Their hands roamed over each other's backs, drinking in the contact between their skin. They pressed closer into each other, and Dean felt the table digging into him. They started to lean back onto it, Cas pushing Dean down gently until his back was resting against the table. Dean smiled into their kisses. He couldn’t help it. He felt like he was walking on air. 

Above them, the bunker door opened. 

“Oh shit, sorry.” 

They pulled apart quickly to see Sam standing at the top of the stairs, smirking. 

He pulled a small grey vial out of his pocket. 

“Guess I don’t need this after all.”


End file.
